


Broken Wings

by Lwemon



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alfheim, Asgard, Elf, F/M, Goddess of Nature, Loki - Freeform, Loki Odinson - Freeform, Marvel - Freeform, Marvel Cinematic Universe - Freeform, Norse Mythology - Freeform, Serpent Familiar, Sif - Freeform, Thor - Freeform, Thor Odinson - Freeform, Valkyrie - Freeform, Valkyrie-Elf, Warriors Three - Freeform, dragon familiar, loki laufeyson - Freeform, saga
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-07-10 08:20:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19902664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lwemon/pseuds/Lwemon
Summary: Not once in her life had Saga questioned who she was. Loved by her people, the Goddess of Nature and princess of Alfheim knew her purpose: to one day succeed to the throne and bring  prosperity to her realm. Everything changes when a dark deity appears in the woods, opening doors to things about herself she never knew existed. When the  two princes of Asgard come in search of allies, it turns out her history with the dark prince may be more than it seems.





	1. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing fanfiction, as well as my first time posting anything on this Archive, so please bear with me as I learn how to navigate this oof-
> 
> Anyway, I’ve had this idea in my head for months now and I’m excited to ty it out, but feel free to provide constructive criticism in the comments. Thank you!

_Fire. Blood. Death. The palace walls tumbled and collapsed under the wrath of the fire dragons and their demon riders. Deafening screams could be heard throughout the realm, almost drowning out the roar of the beasts. A young feminine figure darted in between the falling debris, her hand sending blue-green flares out to freeze them as they fell. Beside her, a small intricately scaled dragon ushered the Asgardians out before sweeping her master away onto the bloodstained battlefield._

_Below, two men dressed in regal red and green battle armor fought side by side, slashing viciously at the fire demons. The young woman dawned her feathered wings and took to the skies, firing her green and gold bow (https://www.pinterest.com/pin/488077678363348371/) using three poison-tipped arrows at once. All in the span of a second three demons fell dead, cleanly pierced through the heart. Blood foamed out of their mouths, though they did not have the life in them to let out a single cry._ _She watched as the green-armored prince produced uncanny illusions, taking pleasure with each dagger he thrusted into the enemy. He flipped his horned helmet in his hand, the priceless gold glimmering even in the dark overcast that surrounded Asgard._

_Fire crackled dangerously close to her ear. Swiveling around, the woman summoned thick roots from the ground that circled a fire giant — it immediately regretted ever daring to ambush the annoyed mage. Wood enveloped it completely and constricted as a boa would do its prey. The once intimidating being was now reduced to a puddle of quickly fading ashes._

_A strangled groan sounded through the dense smoke._

_The woman was a blur as she raced toward the green prince. Groups of demons towered on him, and though he was able to dispel the first lines with flashes of glowing green magic, the beings layered on top of him until he was almost completely buried. Together, she and her dragon ripped the fire creatures from the prince’s scorched body, her eyes glowing an eerie turquoise as the ground below them collapsed. Dozens of Muspelheim giants screeched as they fell into the abyss. The dragon wasted no time in swooping the prince up onto its back before he met the same fate._

_‘_ _Lyra, take the prince somewhere safe! I need to stay and deal with the rest of them!’_

_She jumped off of her familiar before returning to battle. The weakened prince turned to nod in thanks, but instead his eyes widened._

_A searing pain went through her delicate wings before she dropped into a pool of her own red blood._


	2. Goddess of Parties

Patches of snow melted away to reveal the lush green grass that blanketed the realm of Alfheim. Although the naturally warm home of the Light Elves provided some shelter from the usually harsh cold of winter, spring has always been welcomed by every resident on the planet. 

Which is probably why Saga was now sprinting through the halls of the huge palace, almost tripping over her feet with absolutely none of the elegance expected of a royal Light Elf goddess. 

Queen Aelsa was a kind and intelligent ruler, who has only become more experienced since she first took the throne little under a century ago. When it came to festivities, however, she could be a bit...ecstatic.

After what seemed like a decade of running past slippery marble floors and the confused gazes of the palace maids, Saga skidded to a halt at the towering rose gold doors to the queen’s quarters. She hurriedly ran slender fingers through her off-white hair before the guards, who briefly looked at each other with wide-eyes at her frantic state finally pushed open the doors. 

They revealed a beautiful goddess with rose gold hair tied in an simple elvish style braid. She wore a shimmering day dress (https://www.fairytas.com/silver-elven-dress) fit for her status and looked impatient as she tapped her intriguing Midguardian time contraption with her pointer finger. 

“You are late.”

Saga rolled her eyes. “I am aware of that, Mother. I was just-“

“Entertaining the children? Tending to that obnoxious reptile of yours?” Aelsa sighed, “I know that is important, but we have a _party_ to plan! You, of all people should know how I am about these things.”

“I know, Mother, but you, of all people should know how bad they can get when they aren’t given proper attention,” Saga smiled fondly.

“The reptile, or the children?”

“Both.” Saga snorted. The queen let out a small chuckle. 

The Spring Festival was exactly what it sounded like: a festival to celebrate the coming of spring. As per elvish tradition, there were four of these held annually in Alfheim. Each festival celebrated the transition to a new season, but because Alfheim prided itself on it’s unforgettable and lively spring season the Spring Festival was coincidently the largest. Visitors from across the Nine Realms would come to partake in the experience that was Alfheim’s enchanted forests, breathtaking waterfalls and natural springs, vast bodies of water, animals and plants, as well as the beautiful elvish capitol of Ljosalfgard. 

“To the point. As you know, it is quite common for inhabitants of other realms to travel here for the upcoming festival. However, this year the Allmother has notified us in advance that she, the Allfather, and their two sons will be among them.”

Saga stared at her, eyes wide. “The princes will be coming? The _entire royal family_ is coming to the Spring Festival?”

The queen only nodded, her eyes anxious but giddy with excitement at the prospect of impressing the most royal royal family in the Nine. 

The young goddess groaned. “Couldn’t you have chosen any other festival, one in which _I_ am not in charge of most of the festivities?”

“My daughter, you are the Goddess of Nature. I would hope that after all these years under my influence you could handle a bit of an upgrade from your usual parties,” said Aelsa. “Nevertheless, it was not my decision to begin with so I suggest we start planning!” Her eyes twinkled.

Saga sighed heavily, mentally preparing herself for what was sure to be hours of decorations, activities, food, attractions, and other aspects, from the glow of the leaves in the northern part of the Enchanted Forest to what color the flowers would be that decorated the main Dining Hall. What could Saga expect, when she had a mother that was named Goddess of Parties?

“So...I had this brilliant new idea! What if we could enchant the geysers to spew out wine...”

-•-•-•-•-

As soon as Saga caught sight of her green and gold bed, she collapsed, burying her face into the plush pillow stuffed with the fluff of an abundant plant found on the outskirts of the Enchanted Forest. Despite the wide variety of hair colors, skin colors, and magical abilities throughout Alfheim, everybody shared a common love for nature and so it was common knowledge that Saga would personally smite anyone with a seidr-powered fist if they were ever caught using feathers in their pillow.

The goddess heard light chuckling from behind. “Excuse my boldness, but may I ask what has exhausted you so, my lady?”

“Oh, cut the pleasantries, Phaera. I am well aware that you already know of the upcoming festival as well the heavy _burden_ I carry.” Gossip carried fast around the palace, but within a group of maids it could travel like the wind.

“Woe is you, my lady, that you will have the chance to meet both princes of Asgard! I have heard that the blonde one, Thor, is very handsome and charming,” the maid giggled.

Saga rolled her eyes. “I have no interest in such men. In fact, men are far down on my list of priorities at the moment. Right now I must prepare for the festival. My mother has prepared _etiquette and walking classes_ for tomorrow morning, so I best start on other matters right away.”

She paused, and then tried walking across the room. “Is this really that bad?”

”It looks beautiful, my lady, but is much more like the lively skip of an elf than the...strange walk of an Asgardian.”

Saga burst into laughter, “How do they even keep it up all day? Their heads are held up high, and everything!”

“Ooh, and the _heels!_ ” Phaera exclaimed as Saga outwardly winced. The maid never failed to dispel any worries that the Goddess of Nature might have. The two chatted as the best of friends until stars filled the night sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this fun little chapter! Thank you for reading, as always :)


	3. Etiquette

_Screams of agony split through the smoke-filled sky. A raven-haired man clad in deep forest green struggled as he sank beneath hideous monsters with hollow eyes, burning his skin through the armor. Saga reached out to him with her hands and then her magic, but her vain attempts were met with no success; her shouts quickly escalated into helpless shrieking as she could only watch the scene unfold before her. All that was left of the man was an outreached hand — a last, desperate attempt to survive — before he went down under, sinking...sinking...sinking-_

Saga shot upright, back slick with sweat, her face contorted into a silent scream. Her scar was burning again, as seemed to be a reoccurring symptom to her freakishly real nightmares. It was an ugly thing, running throughout the length of her entire shoulder blade and parts of her shoulder, but what was an even bigger mystery was how she obtained it. Saga never remembered fighting in battles, nor had she gotten it from a particularly gruesome training session — if either were the case, she would most definitely remember. What only sparked the young goddess’ curiosity was that her mother always refrained from speaking of it, and other aspects of her early childhood. Saga sighed. Whatever it was, Aelsa was sure to tell her at some point, right?

After ensuring that the pain had subdued, Saga yawned widely and groggily stumbled to the washroom. She tidied up and wore a simple elvish day dress just in time for Phaera to arrive with breakfast. 

“Thank you.” Saga smiled warmly, “You’re always free to take some for yourself, you know. I can never finish this much food.”

Phaera shook her head, “You need it more than I do, especially with those nightmares you’re having. But first...”

Saga tilted her head in confusion as the maid held her head high and walked elegantly, though in a slightly rigid form to the wall of the expansive room and back.

“I haven’t practiced in years, but I think it’s starting to come back to me now! What I’m saying is, if you need more practice outside of your lessons, you know who to come to,” grinned Phaera.

“Lessons...? Wait, lessons. Etiquette lessons. _Oh_.” Saga moved like lightning as she gathered inkpots, journals, half a loaf of bread from the breakfast tray, and other items and stuffed them into her satchel. “Phaera, the time?!”

“You still have seven minutes left, miss, but I suggest you hurry lest you want Lady Ayelah to give you,” she giggled, “to give you a grand scolding.”

You hid a dagger (https://www.castleheraldry.com/products/dragon-dagger-blue) underneath your long dress, making sure it wouldn’t slip out. Though they were not your weapon of choice, which was the bow and arrow, they were the perfect weapon to carry around unnoticed whenever you might need them.

“I assure you, Phaera, that I know from personal experience what her ‘grand scoldings’ are like,” she laughed and made her way toward the door, “which is why I must depart now to escape that fate.”

With that, Saga half skipped, have sprinted to the opposite side of the West Wing where all higher nobility apart from the royal family lived. She halted at a white door with royal blue succulents growing out of the corners, small flowers of similar color scattered across the silver border. Each door in the West Wing was decorated accordingly to the resident’s taste, excluding the hall of guest rooms. They were all built with plants and animals in mind, as to represent the elvish culture. 

The goddess knocked twice on the door. “Lady Ayelah?” No response.

Saga sighed, then finally, “Aunt...Ayelah?”

The door opened to reveal a tall woman with midnight black hair that seemed to shimmer a sheen of blue when put in the right light. Even if she might not be her aunt by bloodline, she was definitely her aunt by heart. She had sharp, stern features, from cheekbones that could cut paper to long elf ears more pointed then most of their race. Though aged, the older goddess wore well. 

“Ah, Saga, I’ve been expecting you. You were cutting it quite close to being late,” your aunt scolded. She stepped out and took her hand, practically dragging an embarrassed princess through the hallways as she struggled to keep up with her absurdly long legs. Saga sweared she heard light chuckling on the way, but was allowed no time to investigate. 

“Really, Ayelah, I’m far too old for this kind of thing...” Saga said, her cheeks heating up as maids watched in amusement. 

“Nonsense.” Then she allowed a small smile to creep upon her lips, “You will always be a child to me.”

They finally stopped at the palace ballroom: a massive, white and gold room with a magnificent painting spanning the entire ceiling. It depicted Light Elves as one with nature. Creatures from the grandeur of a dragon to the delicate butterfly lived in harmony with the equally diverse inhabitants of Alfheim. To the elves the ballroom seemed almost excessive, but from what Saga had read the Asgardians would find it smaller than they were used to. 

“To begin with, I will assess your gait. Show me how an Asgardian would walk to the end of this room.”

Saga straightened her back and put as much concentration possible walking in a line, constantly refraining herself from skipping the rest of the way there. By the time she reached the opposite end of the ballroom the young goddess had nearly tripped over her toes twice, but still thought her attempt was a good one overall.

“Horrible.” Her eyes widened but before she could protest, Lady Ayelah raised her hand and walked elegantly, beautifully, and gracefully over to her student. “Stop putting so much effort into the individual movements, and instead focus on fluidity and connection. Remember to step first with your heel, not your toes, and always keep your head held high.” The older goddess positioned Saga into the correct form before demonstrating again. Even she could not deny that the Asgardian style of walking made her look powerful and regal, yet held a sophisticated beauty all at once.

“Where did you learn this?” Saga asked. Several — or all — of the palace maids knew how to walk as an Asgardian.

Ayelah tilted her head. “Nobility, servants, and maids are all taught from a young age specifically to prepare them for events like the Spring Festival. The queen wants the royal family to feel at home during their stay at the palace.” A pause, then, “Were you not taught?”

Saga furrowed her brows. “I don’t recall anything. Maybe it’ll come back to me soon.” She made a mental note to ask her mother later. 

The older goddess hummed in agreement. “Now, show me again. Follow my example and always remember to make it _flow_ . ” 

Saga thought about how the wind ran smoothly, around the trees and over the rolling hills. She held her head up high, surrounding herself with her an air of confidence before taking a step, then another, until she no longer felt rigid. Halfway to the wall the action became natural up until the final step, when applause sounded behind her. The Goddess of Nature turned around swiftly and grinned; a genuine smile that could bring even an Asgardian prince to his knees.

-•-•-•-•-

The young princess bid Lady- _Aunt_ Ayelah goodbye. She had spent the remainder of the morning and a majority of the afternoon in her company learning Asgardian customs. Apparently, it was a common gesture for a man to kiss the back of a woman’s hand upon first meeting them. Wasn’t that a bit bold? During lunch Ayelah taught her how to use the...she forgot the number, but  too way too many kinds of silverware (and she had thought a fork, spoon, and two knives were unreasonable!). 

Saga yelped and collided with a scaly surface, interrupting her thoughts. Looking up, her eyes met with large teal colored ones much like her own.

“Lyra!” She pulled the dragon into a tight hug, earning a low-throated purr-growl from her familiar. “The legendary dragon swoops down to save her princess from the  torture  that is party planning!”

The creature rolled her eyes. _You still have to make the preparations, or I just might have to start acting like Hathor_.  Hathor was the queen’s own familiar, a beautiful, but quite frankly annoying barn owl with silver feathers that glistened in the night sky. He would fly about the palace grounds, reporting to Aelsa whenever her daughter was causing mischief or not doing what she was told.

It was Saga’s turn to roll her eyes. “You hate that damned bird just as much as I do.”

_That may be true, but it’s still not stopping me_ ,  she huffed. _You still have to start. I’ll come with you._

The young goddess flicked her wrist and in a shimmer of blue-green magic a painstakingly long list appeared in her hand. She rolled it up, the list picking itself off the ground until only a page or two of the scroll could be seen. Lyra bent her long neck so she could read the beautifully written words. The first section was labeled “Outdoors,” and under it in smaller writing said “Enchanted Forest.”

Saga led her familiar through her room and into the balcony overlooking the palace gardens, being careful that the dragon didn’t break anything. They took a few seconds to admire the view before Lyra lifted off into the clear, cloudless sky. 

No matter how many times she flew, it would never get old. Saga closed her eyes and felt the wind blow through her hair, when her moment was cut short .

“Princess Saga? D-dragon? Down here!” 

Saga looked down, smiling when she spotted a small group of two or three children, no older than 12 years old, waving up at them from a nearby field.

Lyra seemed to get the message and said,  _I will take us down there._

They quickly landed, the young elves backing away from her familiar as to not get killed. Saga smiled sweetly at them and asked what they needed.

A little girl with pale orange skin walked closer, nervously fidgeting with her brown locks. “W-we were wondering if you could tell us a story, miss.”

“Yes, your storytelling skills are renowned! We would be honored if you could grace us with a story.” A boy with dark brown skin said with more confidence now that his friend had spoken up. 

Saga laughed at their awkward formality. “Unfortunately, Lyra and I are busy preparing for the Spring Festival,” she admitted. They immediately looked disappointed. “But, I can offer you something even better. How would you like to join us on a trip to the Enchanted Forest?”

Their eyes widened as they glanced at each other excitedly. “Really?!” The last girl exclaimed.

The goddess motioned toward her familiar. “Really! Hop on, she won’t bite.” Lyra crouched down to allow the small children on her back before Saga added, “Just don’t tell your parents, and hold on tight!”

The young elves squealed in delight as they lifted off, and Saga found herself joining them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I’m always looking to improve; constructive criticism is appreciated and encouraged! Thank you for reading :)


	4. The Devil

Lyra took as much joy in hearing the children giggle and holler as they did riding on her back. She sped up, bringing her limbs close to her body and dipping dangerously close to the ground before swinging back up again, inciting a fit a thrilled screams and laughs. Feeling motivated, the she-dragon told everyone to hang on tight. She somersaulted and flipped in the air, gradually perfecting it from the many times Saga had practiced with her. 

As with most mages, the goddess and her familiar were bound in a connection so deep that it had existed since the beginning of the universe. They could feel each other’s pain, conflict, and despair, as they could feel each other’s happiness, joy, and delight. When one was in need of help, the other knew when to come to their aid. Like two pieces of a puzzle, a mage was nothing without their familiar, as a familiar was nothing without their mage. 

It was no surprise that the trip took longer than usual, but finally the first glimpse of the Enchanted Forest could be seen in the distance. It was dark and looked like any other forest, paling in comparison to the other great forests of the realm. 

The boy who Saga came to know as Asmund said, confused, “I thought the Enchanted Forest would be...you know, more  enchanted. ” He shifted his gaze downwards, not wanting to seem ungrateful.

“You haven’t seen anything yet. Be patient, and all will reveal itself to you.” Alfheim’s stunning sunset reflected itself in Saga’s eyes. They were equally beautiful — two deep brown orbs the color of forest earth, rimmed with strange specks of gold that put even Asgard to shame. 

They landed without fault in front of the famous Alfheim landmark, Saga helping the elven children down to the soft grass. By now the sun, larger than that on Midgard and Asgard, had already retired more than halfway under the horizon. 

_We must walk quickly if they are to experience the transformation,_ Lyra said telepathically to Saga, motioningtowards the sunset. 

_Who said we had to walk?_ Saga grinned widely. The dragon’s eyes flashed in understanding, and she returned the grin. Quicker than lightning she dived under the Light Elves and scooped them up onto her back, breaking into a sprint. The grass grew taller and taller the closer they came to the forest, muffling the excited squeals that sounded through the field as they rode on the dragon’s back.

Just as darkness fell on the forest the elves hopped off, Lyra nudging them softly into the greenery. While Saga knew this forest like the back of her hand, the children, however, treaded cautiously. She didn’t blame them — with its complete lack of light and the strange calls of creatures lurking within, it was the definition of haunted. 

The goddess twirled her fingers and Lyra glowed turquoise, shrinking until she fit snugly around the elf’s neck. She hopped nimbly ahead, knowing every place to put her feet when she landed. Looking over her neck, she called, “Follow my lead!”

They were halfway to their destination when a high-pitched shriek made Saga freeze in place, still on tiptoe. At the back of the group, the shortest girl with the light orange skin, named Eira, was struggling and yanking her leg. A vine curled up and around her ankle in a vice-like grip, rapidly making its way above her knee as she pulled and kicked to no avail. 

“Stop struggling!” Saga advised, “They don’t like to be squished, which is why I skipped the entire way through. Think of nature as any other living being; respect it, and comfort it when agitated.”

The Goddess of Nature closed her eyes and felt the life force of the forest around her. Because of her soothing presence it complied when she asked it to part for them, the undergrowth making way for a clean path leading them deeper into the Enchanted Forest. However, the stubborn vine persisted its assault on the poor girl. Despite knowing she could easily coax it into release, she saw this as an opportunity for the young elf to connect with her spirit element. 

“Nature’s life force is especially strong here. Remember what I said before:you can comfort it.”

Eira tilted her head in confusion but then had an idea. Albeit reluctantly, she released her grip on the vines and stroked them soothingly. They gradually receded to the awe of the children, Eira included. The girl relaxed her leg and with a little push from Saga’s magic she was free. 

For a minute everyone just stood there in silence. Then the other girl with stunning purple pupils exclaimed, “That was amazing, Eira! Do you have magic or something?”

Just as stunned, Eira was left speechless. Saga chuckled, “The plants have a life force, as do we. Some of us can communicate with them to some degree through our energies.” She motioned for them to follow her. “We are still short on time, so I will explain further as we walk.”

The undergrowth separated to form a path for them as their goddess moved forward. “My connections to plant and animal energies specifically are stronger than any other, as I am their patron goddess. However, other seidr users can also influence life forces a little bit, since they can easily access their energy and feel others’ energy around them. That is why mages like myself can sense when other mages are around, unless they purposely hide their aura.” Continuing to walk, Saga looked over her shoulder and inquired, “Eira, were you aware that you possess seidr?”

Her eyes widened. “W-what?! No, I think y-you have the wrong person — n-not to doubt your abilities or anything, miss-“ she stuttered, trailing off as she saw the grin on the princess’s face.

Saga glanced at her familiar, curled comfortably on her neck, and communicated,  _It’s nice to see another young mage in our realm. I haven’t seen any new ones in years._

She turned her attention back to Eira, smirking, “Has anything...strange happened around you? Bursts of energy? Creatures hanging around you?”

She didn’t believe it possible, but the young elf’s eyes widened even further. Her mouth formed a small ‘O’. “I...I thought that was just a coincidence...”

Saga shook her head, “Wouldn’t it be a bit strange for such ‘coincidences’ to happen so often? I can find someone at the palace to help you develop your skills.” The goddess put her finger on her chin in thought. “Maybe...maybe even I could teach you, perhaps.” She had absolutely no experience teaching...but the prospect of having a student enthralled her, to be honest. It would be something to take her mind off of the Spring Festival, and there was no one as skilled with magic as her — there was a scarcity of elves with seidr in the first place. Within only a year of her lessons Saga had far surpassed her mother, who was the queen of Alfheim, one of the most powerful mages, and her own mentor. She had heard that the mischievous younger prince of Asgard was also a skilled mage; a battle of magic between them would be one of the ages. The princess shook her head to clear her mind. She was getting sidetracked.

“Meet me at the palace gardens tomorrow at noon — I will tell the guards of your arrival, if you would have me as your mentor, that is.”

Eira gaped at her, taking time to process what she had just been offered. “O-of course, your highness! Is there anything I have to bring?”

“Everything you need, I will provide you. We will have lunch at the palace in private. Now, as your mentor, I’m telling you to drop the formalities. Really, it’s unnecessary and actually makes me quite uncomfortable. And to the rest of you, as your princess, I ask you to do the same.”

Saga’s eyes lit up when she saw what was in front of her. “This is what I wanted to show you,” she whispered, not wanting to disturb the serenity of this place. 

A small patch of grass sat underneath the open sky, where beautiful stars started to appear. In the center was a small pond, soft ripples coming in waves off of a tall, ancient stone that stood in the middle. Swirls and other engravings were carved into the rock, thin tendrils of vines wrapped around. Glowing fish swam contently in the water, their scales a beautiful spectrum of the rainbow. Saga looked above as the moon gradually became brighter and the colors of Alfheim’s breathtaking sunset faded into a midnight blue night sky. 

“It shouldn’t be long now,” she remarked. They waited there for a few minutes, but even as the sun disappeared completely, nothing happened. Not even the crickets dared to disturb the eerie silence that loomed over the forest. She narrowed her eyes. “Something’s wrong.” Closing her eyes, she reached out with her magic. Instead of feeling a life force as she expected, she found a void — the absence of life. A dark, eldritch energy surrounded her, and upon opening her eyes she saw a pitch black substance eating away at the forest, coming right for her. 

“Run! Lyra and I will buy you some time!” Saga said frantically, the darkness rapidly consuming the life in the clearing. For a second the children just stood there like deer in the headlights, frozen in fear. “ _Run!_ ” She repeated, raising her voice to a near scream. Eira looked back in a mixture of worry and pure fear as she sprinted into the trees behind her friends.

Every second the mass came closer as Lyra transformed back into her natural size, roaring as she breathed blue-green fire towards it. It passed right through it, not even halting its raging conquest towards them. Saga conjured a seidr orb and flung it at the mass. This time it made a guttural, unnatural screech and began reshaping itself, the substance being molded until it looked almost humanoid. The dark mass peeled itself away, revealing a person underneath. Saga’s eyes widened as it revealed pitch black wings extending from its back. The area of his eyes which were supposed to be white were instead the same pitch black as his wings — it was like looking into a black hole. Saga had never seen anything so beautiful yet so utterly terrifying at the same time. 

“Saga,” he said, as if revisiting an old memory, “it’s been a long time — centuries too many, but I have finally found you,” he said sinisterly, sounding like a person gone mad. 

“Who are you, and how do you know my name?” She demanded, sounding more confident than she felt. 

The being cocked an eyebrow up. “It wouldn’t be very strange for me to know your name. After all, you are royalty of Alfheim,  _princess_.”  Saga’s eyes narrowed at the obvious lie. “They must have screwed up that smart brain of yours pretty well if you don’t even remember  me. ” 

“Speak elvish, devil,” she hissed.

“Hm, seems that you still remember my old nickname,  _sister_.”  The goddess gaped, eyebrows raised. The “devil” smirked, finding enjoyment in toying with his half-sister’s lost memories and emotions. He needed to take advantage of her amnesia while it lasted. 

In her astonishment, Saga reacted too slowly to dodge the being’s burst of dark energy. It burned the flesh near her rib cage, leaving her cursing on the forest floor which was now consumed by the darkness. Lyra stepped in front of her, buying Saga enough time to enhance the dragon’s scales and deflect the onslaught of attacks from her supposed “brother”. 

A pained howl echoed through the forest as Lyra was engulfed by the dark mass. Saga screamed in anger, using the remainder of her energy to bring up roots from the ground and suffocate the devil. He only laughed hysterically as the darkness consumed the roots, which withered and died along with her efforts to stop it. All that could be seen of Lyra now was her head, still thrashing for release from the dark energy until she was entirely absorbed inside. In a flash, it and the goddess’s beloved familiar shattered into a million pieces, leaving nothing behind but a single scale. It shined in the moonlight beautifully. It didn’t deserve to be this beautiful, not after what had just happened. 

Saga limped over and clutched the scale in her palm. Blood and tears dripped onto the grass. “N-no no no, Lyra, you can’t leave me now, y-you can’t leave me...” she sobbed. The pain of the wound was nothing compared to the pain of her heart. A piece of herself was gone forever. 

Anger flared up inside the goddess as she turned towards the  monster  that did this. A raging fire blazed in her eyes — pure, unadulterated rage. “ _You_ ,” she hissed, in many ways more terrifying than her shriek, “will pay for this.” Faster than light itself she charged at the devil, carrying a glowing sword powered by the unmatched power of hatred and vengeance that flowed through her veins. He howled as it went through his rib cage with a deafening  crack , just missing his heart. The darkness engulfed him just as it did Lyra only moments before as he sputtered out, “I will return. And when I do, you better have spread your wings, Valkyrie.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don’t worry, Loki is coming soon!


	5. Mourning and Magic

She couldn’t focus. She couldn’t think at all. Due to the death —  disappearance,  Saga reminded herself —of her beloved partner classes had been canceled for the day in her mourning. She wouldn’t be able to gracefully cavort around the palace anyway. It was nearly noon, and all Saga had gotten done was eat a measly bite of breakfast and slouch around in her room. 

“You have to eat, your highness!” Phaera had scolded her. Saga didn’t even have the energy to correct her for addressing her with a formal title. The maid softened a little. “I know how you feel, but you can’t give up hope that your dragon will return-“

“YOU DO  NOT  KNOW HOW I FEEL!” Saga screeched, letting out all her pent up emotions, tears flowing freely down her cheeks and dripping onto the bedsheets. “HOW _DARE_ YOU PRETEND TO KNOW?! YOU CANNOT COMPREHEND THE BOND WE HAD — THE BOND YOUR OWN FAMILY WILL _NEVER_ HAVE WITH YOU!” Phaera winced, taking a few steps back. She had hit a nerve, but even so the maid would never talk back to the goddess when she was like this. Hel, she had never seen her lose this much control before, and it was terrifying. 

Saga lowered her voice dangerously, wiping away tears. “Get out of my sight.  _Now_. ” The maid — one of her dearest friends, only nodded sadly and exited without another word. 

The fabled Goddess of Nature, the beautiful, kind, and intelligent elf was now sobbing into her bedsheets, her head buried in a pillow. What a pitiful sight it must have been. She had managed to lose her closest friend within the last few hours and possibly another just now. Killing two birds with one stone, as the Midgardians called it, although she had never liked that phrase for obvious reasons. How could she have let her emotions control her like that? It had never happened before; nothing even came close to her outburst this morning or the intensity of the emotions she was feeling. 

A strange tingling feeling in her back threw her out of her thoughts. It was almost ticklish, running along her shoulder blades and down her back. Her eyes widened — it was exactly where her hideous scars were. Saga had felt agonizing pain in that area, but this symptom was new. The sensation made her feel like something was brushing underneath the skin, wanting to come out. Suddenly, it disappeared. She shook her head; there were much more pressing matters going on. 

All elves had a precise internal clock — it was why she could tell it was half an hour to noon. Surely Eira would understand if she couldn’t make it to their lesson today, but was that what she really wanted? She shook her head, contemplating. Something to take her mind off of that monster and his words last night would be beneficial. 

Without Phaera here, Saga prepared herself for the day. She knew more than most nobles on how to get ready, although she didn’t know all the intricate hairstyles her maid could fix up. It wasn’t an issue, though; elves rarely dressed in anything too complex. Looking into her dresser, Saga spotted a dress she didn’t recognize. It was completely black, reaching below her ankles with little leaf designs running along it. Sitting atop the waistband was a beautiful dragon with appearances uncanny to Lyra — someone had had this custom-made for her. 

A single tear made its way down the curve of her cheek and onto the elven mourning dress. “Oh, Phaera,” she sobbed quietly. “What have I done?”

-•-•-•-•-

Saga’s ears perked when she heard the creaking of the gates as the guards allowed Eira into the palace grounds. The pointed shape of an elf’s ears allowed her incredibly enhanced hearing capabilities. They could be controlled, of course, by carefully tilting the ear to prevent hearing loss. A few minutes passed and Saga could hear the light footsteps of the young elf nearing the gardens, and she did her best to plaster a smile onto her face. 

The goddess waved halfheartedly. “Welcome to the palace,” she said. 

“Wow, I mean, just  wow,” she exclaimed, looking around at the greenery that towered above her head, forming a natural archway. Hundreds of unique, beautiful, and rare species of flora glittered under the rays of sun that filtered through the leaves. From humongous bell-shaped flowers to golden strawberries that tasted like their favorite foods, the gardens of Alfheim had it all; it was easy to see why they were one of the Light Elves’ pride and joys. 

Saga grinned — genuinely, this time — and took the girl gently by the hand. She led her through the garden, pointing out different plant species along the way. The flamboyant huckleberry, a tart fruit that changed color based on the emotions of the person holding it. A glitræ, most commonly denoted by the screaming of a foolish trader that had just lost their valuables to the leaf that looked like a jewel. There was even a raucous meandisher, which you should never come close to unless your goal is to awaken the entire realm with its ear-piercing belting (and land yourself in the dungeons).

They finally came to a path that split two ways. To the left was a cavern, it’s gaping mouth stuffed full of overgrown plants and foliage. It looked as if no one had entered in decades. 

“What is that?” Eira inquired, studying the cave. 

“I will take you there when you are ready. For now, follow my lead — we’re almost there.”

The other path, which they followed, continued on until a silver structure could be seen peeking over the head of the trees. Eira gasped. Up close, she could see rays of light shining thinly through the dome’s glowing walls. It was made entirely out of silk. The huge leaves blocking the entrance parted for them as they entered. 

Saga reached her hand out to feel the material, softer than a cloud yet stronger than diamond. “This is where we will train. Legends say that this silk was enchanted by one of the greatest mages to ever live, and he was an elf. All elven seidr-users are supposedly descended from him. His real name has been forgotten — lost in time — but his alias, Arv-

“This place was made by  Arvid?! ” she exclaimed, a look of amazement on her features. “I’m _descended_ from him?!”

Saga chuckled and nodded. “This material can’t be broken, which makes it the ideal place to work our magic.” She snapped her fingers and three targets appeared in front of them. “Use your seidr and hit the targets as close to the center as possible.”

The girl squinted in concentration and thrust her hand forward. Nothing happened, and she sat there looking dumbfounded. “I-I don’t know how. I don’t feel any magic.”

The goddess mentally face-palmed herself. How would someone with no prior training know how to do that? “Maybe I started a bit too difficult.” With a flick of her wrist the targets disappeared and were replaced by three identical-looking roses. She concentrated her magical energy on the right rose, but did not enchant it. 

“Which rose do you think has seidr in it? Close your eyes, Eira. Try to feel it’s energy with your own energy.”

_Close your eyes, Saga. Try to feel it’s energy with your own energy. Reach out with your power, block out everything else around you. You must concentrate!_

Saga blinked. What was that?

Her attention was diverted again by a gasp next to her. “I can feel it! It’s so powerful, and glowing, and-  _wow_ ,  it looks blue!” Eira rambled on excitedly. 

“That’s what my magic looks like, apprentice,” she tested the word on her tongue, almost giggling. It sounded strange, yet made her feel powerful. She was a real mentor. “So, which rose has the magic?”

Her answer was instantaneous. “The right one.”

“The right one is, well, the right one — good job!” She commended. “Moving on!”

For the remainder of the afternoon, the elves trained with magic. The young elf learned how to properly access her seidr and how to pintpoint other magic users by their energies. Saga eventually taught her how to shoot seidr blasts at the targets as she originally intended to, learning that Eira’s magic glowed with a warm orange-pink hue. It reminded her of the fire kindling in her eyes, not unlike the blazing sunset that illuminated Alfheim’s forests and rolling hills. 

Saga didn’t have to see it’s breathtaking colors to know that the sun was departing under the horizon; like everything else, she could feel it’s massive energy. “I think it’s time to stop for the day. You did well, Eira; I’m impressed, really.” Throughout the strenuous hours the girl had learned everything with eagerness and drive. They had just finished intense close-up magical combat training. 

Out of breath, Eira heaved, “Thanks, I learned a lot today! B-but I still have energy left! Do we have to stop now?” She looked up at her with pleading eyes. 

The princess chuckled at her enthusiasm, pride showing through her gaze. “I might have an idea. Follow me!” She whistled, expecting to see her beautiful she-dragon ready to fly. Then she remembered. Her hand came back down to rest at her side, sadness and anger threatening to overcome her. 

Eira reached up to put a hand on her shoulder. Although she had only known the creature for a day, she would have to be blind not to see that she meant the world to her mentor. 

Saga softened at her touch. Then the sensation started up again. It tingled near her spine, relentless in its quest to distract her from everything that was actually  _important_.  She tried her best to ignore it. The mage fixed her posture and marched determinately onward out of the gardens.

-•-•-•-•-

Noon faded into evening as the first stars peeked through the dark blanket of the night sky. Saga had taken Eira on a “field trip” of sorts through the most beautiful landmarks of Alfheim to watch her prepare for the upcoming Spring Festival. 

Eira watched in awe as her mentor transformed the trees in the Hall of the Nine Realms. The structure itself was another magically created by the great Arvid. Huge, towering trees arched over on both sides until their uppermost branches met in the middle, allowing moonlight to seep through the openings . At the head of the hall stood the Trees of the Nine Realms — nine magnificent trees, each representing one of the realms. Muspelheim’s tree was enchanted with an eternal flame, forever burning along with its red and orange leaves that never died. The people of Vanaheim were competitors with Alfheim for the most beautiful seasons, but they were often allies in wars between the realms. Their tree boasted beautiful leaves in a variety of shapes and sizes, glowing nightlight bugs floating near. Midgard’s tree was the most simple out of them all, but no less beautiful in Saga’s opinion. Every few months the upcoming season’s patron god visited this hall to change the trees to fit the new season. One by one, Saga told her apprentice of the realms as she transformed snow-dusted leaves into the beautiful colors of Spring (except Jotunheim, Muspelheim, and Hel; they had no seasons) In the center were the trees of Alfheim and Asgard. The elves had a tree with leaves ranging the entire spectrum of green, the occasional rainbow leaf in between. At the top sat a beautiful peacock-like bird with feathers the color of rolling hills and cherry blossoms. 

“Hello, young one,” it said in its ethereal voice. She looked at Eira. “It seems you have brought me a...child.”

“Yes, this is my apprentice! Urvashi, meet Eira. Eira, Urvashi.”

Urvashi turned her head away and scoffed, “I don’t know why I bother speaking to you when you bring me  _this_ as company. What happened to Lyra?”

Saga tensed, and the bird immediately knew what had happened. “D-don’t tell me. She couldn’t have...you were supposed to be with her for millennia...” If a bird could grieve, that’s what she was doing. 

“I’ll explain later.” She sighed as Urvashi gave her that  _I want to know NOW_ look _._ “I-I just don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Anyway, this is Urvashi, my former partner-in-crime. Or mischief around the palace, same thing. But now she’s more like the cranky grandmother-older sister hybrid that I never wanted.”

“HEY! It’s only because you had to attend to ‘duties as a princess’,” the bird made quotation marks with her wings, “and never had time for me anymore! Remember that time when we pranked your brother by drugging his horse?”

“It wasn’t  _drugging_ ,  it was  _magicking_! ” Saga covered her mouth with her palm to stifle her giggling.

“Same thing. My point stands.”

“Listen, I’m sorry I can’t spend as much time with you anymore. I’ll try harder, I promise,” she said as she defrosted the Asgardian tree with her magic. It had a soft brown trunk with runes engraved into the wood. The leaves were a metallic, blinding gold. Saga added small golden berries to add the effect of Spring. The hall was structured so light would always hit the trees perfectly, except for the tree of Svartalfheim, the Dark Elves. The Light Elf shuddered at the thought of them.

“You  always  say that. I’ve never known you as one to throw words around carelessly without meaning.” Urvashi ruffled her feathers. “I bet you’re going to leave right now, and not return for another  _month_.”

Eira glanced at the princess. She was opening and closing her mouth, debating whether or not to say anything. Despite the unfriendly manner the bird spoke of her earlier, Eira pitied Urvashi. How lonely had she been, spending her days in this hall? 

But the bird was not finished. “You could take me as your familiar. I loved Lyra as you did, but she’s gone now. You need a partner,  _please_ - “

“No! ” Saga took a deep breath. “I-I’m not ready to let go yet. I’m sorry, old friend.” She meant to say,  _I promise I’ll come back_ ,  but the words never left her mouth. Without another word, she took Eira by the hand and left the Hall of the Nine Realms. 

They walked silently beside each other back to the palace.  I can’t do this anymore,  the goddess thought to herself. She was losing more and more of her closest friends, her closest  family.

Suddenly a figure came bursting out of the bushes, shouting her name. As it came closer she realized it was Phaera, sticks caught in her messy hair. 

“Saga!” She came to an abrupt halt in front of them, bent over and panting heavily. “Saga! I’ve been looking everywhere for you; I didn’t trust the guards to find you, and I was right.”

Saga gasped at her state and with a flick of her wrist tidied her up. “What is it? What happened?!”

“The royal family arrived early. You missed their welcoming, but you’re supposed to be there at dinner tonight. It starts in an hour.” Saga blinked.

“ WHAT?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki next chapter ;)


	6. Broken Wings: Elves and Related

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little character database for some of the main characters in this series. Keep in mind that what is listed is either what Saga already knows or what I want to give you. Some things can and will change!

** Broken Wings: Elves and Related **

  * **Saga (unknown last name):**
  * Title(s): “Goddess of Nature”, “Princess of Alfheim”, “Dragon-Rider”, “Mother of the Forest”, Princess Saga
  * Gender: Female
  * Race: Light Elf
  * Familiar: Lyra (dragon)
  * Mother: Queen Aelsa of Alfheim
  * Father: Unknown. He died before Saga was born, to her knowledge. 
  * Sibling(s): Bjarte (younger brother), and possibly a dark, devil-like being who claims to be her brother. 
  * Occupation: Princess, skilled mage, goddess of nature
  * Likes: Herbology, nature, books, drawing, astronomy, music (Midgardian “piano”), mischief
  * Dislikes: Being addressed with a royal title, heels, hunting for sport, arrogance/rudeness, folding the corners of books (a “capital offense”)



Princess Saga possess a different, more subtle beauty than that of her mother. She has a sharp jawline and even sharper eyes the color of forest floor rimmed with strange gold specks. Her platinum white hair reaches the middle of her back, and she has slightly pale skin. Sharp and intelligent, Saga is a mother to nature, treating plants and animals with equal love and respect as her own race. The goddess is good with children, showing them a motherly affection that only plants and animals usually receive from her. Her people look up to her as the future heir, and she has only impressed them so far. She has a passion for medicine and healing as well as the arts, often writing poems in her free time. The princess is also known for her mischief and tricks, although they are all in good spirit and completely harmless (usually  🧐 ).

  * **Queen Aelsa Featherwine:**
  * Title(s): Queen of the Elves, Queen of Alfheim, Queen of Ljosalfgard, Goddess of Festivities
  * Gender: Female
  * Race: Light Elf
  * Familiar: Hathor (Barn Owl)
  * Husband: Deceased 
  * Children: Princess Saga, Prince Bjarte 
  * Occupation: Queen, skilled mage, goddess of festivities
  * Likes: Parties, pink, animals, learning about other realms, wine, painting
  * Dislikes: Tardiness, mischief



All of the Nine Realms know of Aelsa’s beauty — and not just because she is royalty. Her off-white hair has a rose-gold tint, complimenting light cream skin. The Queen has an excellent fashion sense, and often designs her own dresses with her magic. She is a fairly new ruler, only having taken the throne a century ago, but she is as good as one who has ruled for millennia. The Goddess of Parties is usually kind, calm, and stern when she needs to be — except when it comes to parties, of course. Things often go more extravagant than needed when it comes to Aelsa’s royal events. 

  * **Phaera Erikdottir:**
  * Gender: Female
  * Race: Light Elf
  * Parents: Erik (Father, Knight), Raina (Mother, no occupation)
  * Occupation: Palace Maid
  * Likes: Knitting, sowing, harmless gossip (especially about men)
  * Dislikes: Fighting/battle/warfare, weapons, blood



Phaera works as Princess Saga’s personal maid in the Ljosalfgard palace. She has long brunette locks and lavender purple skin. Phaera has known Saga since Queen Aelsa’s rule began, quickly becoming close friends. In spite of this, she is submissive and often uses Saga’s royal titles on instinct. She enjoys gossiping, especially about men, and is the considered the “leader” of the palace maids and servants. 

  * **Eira Gormindottir:**
  * Gender: Female
  * Race: Light Elf 
  * Familiar: N/A
  * Parents: Gormin (Father, Carpenter), Unknown Mother
  * Occupation: Mage Apprentice of Princess Saga
  * Likes: Quiet, peace, books
  * Dislikes: Loud noises, crowds, public events



Eira is a young elf, no more than 14 years of age, and is Princess Saga’s first apprentice. She usually keeps to herself, sitting in the corner of her bed reading a thick book. Eira doesn’t feel comfortable at social gatherings and is extremely insecure due to having no mother to guide her through childhood. She is small for her species with light orange skin and sunset colored orbs — Saga is determined to bring out the fire in those eyes. 

  * **Duchess Ayelah (unknown last name):**
  * Title(s): Lady Ayelah (“ _Aunt_ Ayelah, Saga”), Duchess Ayelah (“ _Never. Call. Me. Duchess_.”), ‘Aunt’ Ayelah, Duchess of Alfheim
  * Gender: Female
  * Race: Light Elf
  * Parents: ???
  * Occupation: Duchess of Alfheim, Royal Advisor, Queen’s Advisor, Elven Council Member, Royal Dance Instructor
  * Likes: Politics, good manners, eloquence, elegance, music, dancing (Elven dancing, Asgardian waltz)
  * Dislikes: Obnoxious lumbering oafs, beer, discussing her parentage 



Duchess Ayelah is a long-time friend and advisor of the elven crown. Age doesn’t seem to leave its mark on her, other thank the smallest of wrinkles; she dances with the elegance of her centuries of experience and with the spirit of someone much younger. She has been close to Saga her entire life, and acted as a second parent to her. Her features are remarkably similar to the princess’s — chiseled jawline and cheekbones make her look like a majestic hawk on the hunt. She enjoys debating over politics and isa Council Representative for Alfheim. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed — I’ll have another chapter out soon! I’ll make more of these in the future for spells, familiars, creatures, and more. Feel free to ask any questions in the comments, and I’ll try to answer them without spoiling any of the major plot. Thanks ^^


	7. Arrival

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not updating for so long! School started, and I didn’t really have much time. Anyway, here’s a long one for compensation ^^

“The royal family of Asgard arrived early! You did miss the welcoming — which the queen was  not  happy about — but you are expected to be at the welcoming feast tonight.” 

_“_ _WHAT?!”_

“It starts in an hour. A-and I know you’re still angry with me, but I...I wanted to apologize.”

Saga blinked. “ _You’re_ apologizing to  _me_ ? I screamed at you, by the Norns! And now I realize that you’re right; I have to move on and push through this. Crying isn’t going to get me anywhere, especially if there’s still a chance that she’s out there somewhere.” Her eyes widened. “The royal family arrived early?! Ack, I really should have planned for this...”

“Don’t worry, I have your wardrobe all picked out. Who’s she?” Phaera motioned toward her new apprentice, who looked no older than 15 years of age (they age like Midgardians until adulthood).

Saga beamed, her gaze prideful. “This is Eira! She’s my apprentice of sorts. I’ve only been teaching her magic for a day, but she’s a very fast learner.”

Eira’s sunset-colored cheeks blushed at the praise, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Phaera smiled warmly. “Hopefully you’re not as difficult of a student as your mentor is,” she winked. 

“I heard that!” Saga growled playfully.

Most of the stars were out by now. “Eira, you should head back home. Meet me in the gardens tomorrow, at the same time. Phaera, let’s go.”

They were back at her quarters at record time. Laid out on the bed was a beautiful long dress with intricate designs. Gold embroidery ran along the sleeves and waistline in the form of shining little leaves. She reached out to put it on, but Phaera stopped her, instead holding up a laced article of clothing.

Saga tilted her head, asking, “What is that? It looks...uncomfortable.”

“A corset,” replied the maid. She tapped her chin, wondering how to phrase it. “It’s an Asgardian...waist-slimming technique? Midgardians use something similar, I heard.” 

She eyed the corset warily. “It doesn’t seem very practical,” Saga remarked. “Wouldn’t you suffocate in this?” Phaera shrugged and fastened it to her body, tightly pulling on the strings. Saga winced. Her waist was already petite for elf standards — she couldn’t imagine the agony Asgardians felt.

“ _They_ are coming to _our_ realm ,” the princess muttered, visibly annoyed. “I don’t see why we have to follow their customs!”

The maid laughed, “There’s a reason King Odin was named the  All father. Besides, when you go out into public to enjoy the festival you get to wear our elven dresses!”

Saga only huffed. 

Finally Phaera finished, and the princess wasted no time in slipping the Asgardian-Elven style dress over her head. The fabric was light yet durable and clung to her figure perfectly. A gold chain belt was fit around her waist, the end hanging loosely on her hip. A sprig hair accessory, also in her colors, would adorn her dark brown locks after her hair was done. It was vaguely shaped like a crown or tiara, but unlike most it was meant to go along the side of her head. 

Finally, she fastened an emerald green and gold brooch pin near her collarbone, formed like a spade-shaped leaf. It was something she wore on every formal occasion. Saga brushed her fingers over the small, barely noticeable crack across its golden veins. 

_ “Mama! Mama! Lyra stole my pin!” The young princess wailed, but there was no response. The brooch pin was her new birthday present, gifted to her by her father. Now it looked awkward and large on her, but she never took notice.  _

_She huffed in annoyance when she realized her familiar had rushed off, nowhere to be seen. She followed the young dragon’s aura until the trees parted to reveal the palace gardens. Closing her eyes, she could sense a fresh trail that led her to a forked road. Saga took the left path and came to a quaint little greenhouse. It was beautiful. Gnarled wood formed its base, a crystalline glass dome at its rear. Her eyes lit up. How many species of plants were in there?_

_ Just then, a loud rustling of leaves caught her attention. From the corner of her eye she could see the end of a reptile tail. The goddess narrowed her eyes; it was almost as if Lyra was  trying  to get her attention. Nevertheless, she decided to investigate. She couldn’t use invisibility or hiding spells; familiars could always sense each other’s magical presence, which ruled out seidr. The princess would have to rely solely on her stealth and light foot, which were luckily trademark traits of a Light Elf.  _

_What she hadn’t noticed was the elf beside her, waiting in the shadows._

_Quick as a jungle cat, she pounced on her prey. When she only felt air she looked around with a bemused expression on her features. Lyra was an illusion. Just as she caught sight of a dark silhouette in the shadow of the trees she was tackled to the ground._

_“Father!-“ she giggled and kicked at the man with no success. When finally they calmed the man held his daughter to his chest, the sun’s rays illuminating the gardens._

_“Where’s my pin?” asked Saga._

_He fumbled around his pockets, then frowned. “I put it here somewhere...”_

_Out of nowhere Lyra came running in, boasting a smug expression. There in her teeth was the green and gold brooch pin._

_“Lyra, you good-for-nothing reptile! Give that back!” Saga did her best to sound stern, but she ended up laughing._

_Her father chuckled, “You should be proud, Saga. She’s taken after you —so much mischief!”_

_ Saga rolled her eyes and took back the pin in her small fingers, examining it. “And Mother thought  I  would be the one to crack it!”  _

_Lyra looked guilty now. “I didn’t mean to...”_

_But the princess was laughing. Her voice sounded like birdsong. “It’s fine, I really don’t mind. But that was brilliant, Lyra! No one suspected you would be the mastermind behind this!”_

“Saga? Princess Saga?!” 

Her eyes snapped open. She had collapsed on the mattress of her bed. Phaera sighed in relief. 

“W-What was that?”

“I don’t know. You just blacked out for a while. I tried to shake you awake, but you were dead as a rock,” she replied, pulling her up with ease despite her small size. 

“How long was I out?” Her voice was frantic.

“Only a few minutes, don’t worry. We still have some time before the feast, but we’ll have to hurry.”

While her maid smoothed put her dress and braided her hair, Saga was deep in thought. First it was during Eira’s lessons, and now... this.  Was this her memory? Why didn’t she remember any of this? She frowned. Her father died before she was born — right? Who was that man? What did Lyra have to do with any of this? 

Noticing her friend’s expression, Phaera furrowed her brows but kept silent. She tied her white hair into a simple yet elegant elven-style braid and rested her crown (http://m.weddbook.com/media/2696808/elven-circlet-medieval-crown-wedding-tiara-bridal-crown-elven-headpiece-elena —> similar style to the link, but more intricate) atop her head. It was expertly crafted by the dwarves of Nidavellir as a gift to the realm. Gold was woven into intricate patterns and designs that resembled twigs and leaves, encompassing a dazzling emerald green gem in the center that shined with a blue-green tint — the color of her seidr. 

Finally the Goddess of Nature was prepared for the feast. She wrapped her arms around Phaera and they shared a reunion hug. 

“I’m sorry for earlier,” Saga apologized, muffled from the tight embrace. “I’ll make sure to bring you back a little something from the feast,” she winked, knowing how much her maid loved pastries. Phaera grinned widely and waved as the princess opened the green and gold door into the hallway. 

Her shoes clicked against the marble floor, echoing off the walls as she walked. Saga held her head high and walked with measured confidence and stride, remembering Aunt Ayelah’s advice. If nothing else, she could at least make a good impression while the All-family was here. 

“You’ve been practicing! I’m impressed Ayelah taught you so well,” said a familiar voice. Saga turned around to face the man in surprise, continuing to walk.

“Bjarte!” She threw her arms around the solid wall of muscle that was her younger brother. “I thought you went to capture that criminal running loose in the capital!”

Bjarte’s expression turned grim. “About that. It turns out that the theif is actually a murderer. He’s already gotten to at least three people, and he...he came close to killing Aunt Ayelah last night.”

Saga’s eyes widened, which morphed into cold anger. “And? Did you capture him?” 

“No. He managed to evade all my most silent, cunning elves, and took a few of their lives in the process. I never had to chance to face him head on” — Saga breathed a sigh of relief — “but from what the spies told me this man is not any ordinary murderer. He’s a spirit, a devil, a dark being. They call him the ‘Winged Demon’. The demon with angel wings.”

Her breath seemed to stop in her throat. It couldn’t be — right? She thought back to the terrifying demon that claimed her his sister. Saga and her familiar were an unstoppable pair, and yet  he  had managed to split them apart. The usually conspicuous presence of Lyra’s life energy was a constant source of comfort, but now she couldn’t even feel a trace. For the first time in her life, she shivered in genuine fear. Her brother’s description was almost uncanny.

She jolted at a calloused hand on her shoulder. “Saga?”

The goddess put her hand on top of his. “S-sorry. I was thinking about something.” She took time to study his face, and realized that, like her, Bjarte was  _scared_.  Terrified for his people, his legion. He would only be more fearful if he knew that the same demon took away her dragon. 

Saga did her best to smile comfortingly. “Do not worry, brother. We will defeat this monster — whatever he may be — together.”

The smile did not reach her eyes.

The prince and princess of Alfheim walked side by side to the huge doors that led to the royal dining hall. 

“Princess Saga. Prince Bjarte.” The servants bowed in unison, pulling open the grand, heavy doors with ease. Saga smiled back politely, while her brother nodded. Elven royalty were different from the other realms in that they did not undermine their people. She scowled in distaste. Word was it that the famed Fandral “The Dashing” treated servants worse than the dirt below his feet. Either that, or he flirted with them. She didn’t doubt it, with a name like that.

Saga flinched. Her sensitive ears pounded at the ruckus in the normally quiet and serene dining hall. Asgardian men laughed loudly, banging huge jugs of beer on the table as they babbled and conversed. Since when did they serve beer?

Her eyes locked with deep, emerald green ones. She blinked. Sitting near the head of the table was a man with raven hair and green, black, and gold Asgardian armor. He wore a smirk and a shining gold helmet with curved horns. It was the same man in her nightmares. How did this day manage to become even stranger? The man smirked, and the princess narrowed her eyes in response. 

An ecstatic, sing-song voice brought her out of her trance. “Saga! Meet our guests!”

The Allfather extended a hand for her to shake. She took it, still processing that she was meeting the  Allfather. 

“ You must be Princess Saga. I have heard many good things about you,” complimented Odin.

Saga blushed to the tips of her ears . “I am flattered, King Odin. It is a great honor to be your host during your stay in our realm.” He nodded and stepped back. You could still feel the raven-haired man’s eyes on you.

A woman with dark blonde, curled hair took his place, smiling warmly. “Princess Saga, the Goddess of Nature. It is my pleasure to finally meet you.”

Her eyes widened. “Queen Frigga!” She couldn’t help but feel jittery with excitement. “I have wanted to meet you for so long. You have great renowned, even in our realm, Your Majesty. I have seen your works on seidr — is it true you have found a gateway to a separate universe?” Saga bit her lip in embarrassment, realizing she had gone off on one of her never-ending tangents. 

Frigga chuckled, “It is complicated, but I would be more than happy to explain it to you another time. It is uncommon to find someone with such a passion for magic, Princess Saga. You will make a great queen one day.” Saga was close to bursting, having been praised by her idol. “Come, meet my sons.”

“Prince Thor Odinson.” A heavily muscled man with blue eyes and shoulder-length hair took her hand in his and lightly brushed his lips over her knuckles. The goddess fought hard to refrain from showing surprise; she had completely forgot about that Asgardian custom. “We thank you for hosting my men and my family for the Spring Festival.”

The goddess smiled. “Princess Saga.” She glanced back briefly at the other guests they hosted in their dining hall. “So these are your men. They are...quite the animated bunch, are they not?”

Thor grinned, pride showing in his eyes. “You should see them on the battlefield. When I am Allfather, they will help me defeat all of our enemies with ease, just as my father did. We will be unstoppable!” Saga winced, but judging from his expression, this was youthful ambition and not a love for bloodshed. So this was the man Phaera was fawning over. It didn’t surprise her; she knew many elves who would be entranced by a man of his bulk. But not her. 

So she said something they both could understand. “It is always a comfort to know your people will support you when you take the crown.”

Thor nodded in agreement. Then he waved goodbye and left to go sit with his men. 

To Saga’s surprise, the man clad in green and gold stood from his seat. “So this is the princess that missed our arrival today.” He smirked. 

“My apologies. However, I had duties to attend to, and was not informed that you had arrived—  _ahem_ —  over a week earlier than we expected.” It was her turn to smirk. 

“Then perhaps now we may be fully acquainted. Prince Loki Odinson, God of Mischief.” He pressed his lips to the back of her hand. They were startlingly cold, and lingered longer than she thought was appropriate. 

“Princess Saga,” she replied and added, “Goddess of Nature.” Loki raised a perfect brow when she didn’t mention a last name, but did not comment. Somehow, Saga felt like she should know this man. The tingling at her back started up again, stronger than ever. She gritted her teeth.

“Strangely, I recognize you from somewhere.”

Her eyes widened. “So it isn’t just me.”

Queen Aelsa interrupted them. “I’m glad to see you’ve already met! Bjarte, you will be seated next to me, and Saga will be seated to the left of you across from Prince Loki.” The princess looked over the crowd to where Thor was sitting among his men. Though she admired their relationship, did he seriously think their realm and family were not important enough for him to at least sit where he was supposed to be?  What an oaf.

Saga picked at her food, having lost her appetite ever since Lyra passed. Occasionally the God of Mischief would send over a smirk or curious look, which she returned halfheartedly. Frigga, Odin, and her mother were discussing their stay in Alfheim, alliances, and other subjects of the sort, which she knew she should listen in on, but couldn’t bring herself to focus on anything other than the demon with angel wings. 

“I must ask, have you heard of Winged Demon?” Her mother asked, sipping at her wine. The Allfather had left to go speak to Thor.

Her ears perked, and a solemn expression crossed my face at the same time it did my brother’s. She felt the younger prince’s eyes on her, noticing the change. 

“Now that I think about it, I have heard rumors of a such a creature.” The Allmother concentrated, pulling it from her memory. “Yes, I recall hearing a nephew of mine talking about a devil with feathered wings. It consumes things, correct? Money, garments, animals...” Saga bit her tongue at that.

“-and elves.” Bjarte growled. “Possibly Asgardians as well.”

The nature goddess shivered — the being from her nightmares had already spread to other realms. How long would it be until it became unstoppable?

Loki looked as if he wanted to say something, but kept quiet.  Smart,  Saga thought. It wouldn’t be wise to comment about her or her brother’s experience with the Winged Demon. He might just end up with roots around his neck. 

“Elves? What happened — if you are comfortable with sharing, that is,” asked Queen Frigga.

No one else noticed, but Saga saw Bjarte writhe in his seat. Despite what Frigga said, he wouldn’t dare disobey the Allmother. He told them everything. 

The princess didn’t want to listen again, and instead looked over the guests in the room. As expected, Aunt Ayelah wasn’t present. As composed as she was in public, even the duchess needed time to recover from a murder attempt. Saga would have to stop by later, if nothing else. 

The kitchen servants brought plates piled with various elvish desserts, all of them made more extravagant by Queen Aelsa. Layered tarts, three-tiered fruit cakes, and special  fognudr-flavored  puddings that tasted like the consumer’s favorite food. Saga waved her hand from under the table and two tarts disappeared into her seidr storage, leaving a conspicuous shimmer of turquoise behind. The guests were probably too busy conversing to notice, though, and as a princess Saga could do what she wanted — she was just worried what the Asgardians thought of magic. Here on Alfheim seidr was perfectly acceptable — marveled at, even, but her mother had warned her that Asgardians feared what they could not control themselves. It was idiotic, really. After all, it was magic that built their golden palaces.

She was snapped back to reality when her name was called. “I’m sure Saga would be delighted to show you her magic!” Her mother patted her on the arm. “It would be interesting to watch a battle between two of the most proficient seidr-wielders of the Nine.”

“What?”

“Prince Loki was asking whether we had any talented mages here on Alfheim.” 

She gave her a barely noticeable wink, but Saga got the message: _Kick his ass._


End file.
